


Humiliation

by Hello_Spikey



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-03
Updated: 2009-07-03
Packaged: 2019-07-02 07:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15791838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_Spikey/pseuds/Hello_Spikey
Summary: Angel interrogates Lindsey, and he wants Spike to see the tape.





	Humiliation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ash_carpenter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ash_carpenter/gifts).



> Okay, so I promised this fic to Ash, like, two months ago. It's very over-due and probably not worth the wait.
> 
> Warnings: Angel is a massive, massive dick. Non-con and dub-con and quite a bit of voyeurism, truth be told.

Spike slouched through the door, shooting a compulsory leer at Harmony, who was leaning forward over Angel’s shoulder, displaying her assets quite well.

“So you just press this button,” she said, pointing. Her breast swayed gently against Angel’s cheek, but that wasn’t why he looked consternated.

Spike hopped up on the edge of the desk. “Still trying to teach this old dog new tricks, Harm? You’re wasting your time.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Anyway, the boss and me have an important meeting, love, so why don’t you toddle on back to your desk and give the mailman something to look forward to?”

Harmony straightened with a pout and seemed on the verge of the monumental task of coming up with a reply, when Wes walked in.

“Am I late?” Wesley didn’t look up from the paper he was reading until he was a foot from Angel’s desk.

Angel’s smile didn’t extend to his eyes. “Almost. Thanks for making it, Wes.”

Spike blinked. Quietly, with just a trace of disappointment, he said, “Oh. So it really is a meeting?”

“Remember, just that button.” Harmony pointed again.

Angel scowled, “I got it.” He snatched the controller up and Harmony sashayed out of the office.

Wes glanced quickly at Spike, and then back to Angel. “Is this the matter we discussed?”

“Lindsey’s interrogation,” Angel said. “You want to grab a seat?” He raised the remote and pressed, with great emphasis, the button Harmony had indicated.

Spike wondered at the strange look Wes shot him before folding his papers and settling in to one of the office-chairs facing the big view screen.

The camera angle was high, looking down mostly at the top of Lindsey’s head as he sat, sprawled lazily in black and white. The video quality wasn’t great, but it was good enough to see and hear the chains scrape against the arms of his metal chair as Lindsey shifted, eyes flicking up to the camera with a knowing smirk.

Spike felt a stab at that quick, casual glance. He folded his arms in front of him and muttered, “The bastard actually have something useful to say?” He hoped he sounded more bored than anxious.

“Just listen.”

On the tape, Angel’s voice was tinny, his spiked hair brushing the bottom of the picture frame. “So how did you convince Spike to go along with it?”

“Come on, Angel. You can’t be serious. Ask me a hard one.”

Spike spoke over the taped response, “What’s the point of this?”

“Shush,” Angel said. The strange not-smile on his lips was setting off warning bells in Spike’s brain. “Just watch.”

Lindsey scratched the side of his face. “You tell someone something they want to hear, they don’t look too hard at it.”

“And what was it he wanted to hear?”

“That he was a champion.” Lindsey shrugged. “That he wasn’t just Papa Angel’s shadow.”

“So: a lie.”

Lindsey shifted. “Look, what do you want me to say? That you’re the big, important hero? You knew that. And anyway, why is _he_ here?” Lindsey shifted his eyes left and jerked his bound hands that way. A shadow moved against the far wall.

“Wesley is an observer. You wouldn’t want me to interrogate you without someone watching? Without some… control on my temper?” Angel’s shape loomed into the bottom of the picture, leaning over the table, his shoulders shifting like a cat about to strike.

“Yeah, I’m real fucking reassured.”

“Good. Maybe now you’ll tell me why you felt it necessary to fuck Spike. Was it to get him to play along, or just a bonus?”

In Angel’s office, Spike stiffened, about to jump up from the desk, but Angel’s hand clamped down on his wrist, forcing him to stay. Spike struggled a moment, then saw the stony expression on Angel’s face. He glanced briefly to Wes for help, but saw no expression there at all but a quiet interest.

On the screen, Lindsey stretched back fully in his chair, the chains at his wrists sliding and chiming as he hooked his thumbs in his belt. “Maybe he just wanted a taste of my enormous dick.”

“He’s had better.”

Lindsey flashed a cold smile. “No, you just _are_ an enormous dick, there’s a difference.”

The sound of the smack was static in the recording. Lindsey fell half out of his chair, hair falling over his face as his hands jerked up to defend himself, but were stopped by the chains half-way to his face.

Spike jerked forward too, as though he could stop the actions that had already happened. “Why are you showing me this?” Again he looked at Wes, as though that was his best bet for mercy.

Angel suppressed a chuckle at how _cute_ that was.

Spike and Angel strained, a silent test of strength and will while the sounds of struggle – chair legs screeching and chains rattling and bodies thumping into hard surfaces – came from the monitor across the room. Wesley watched with detached interest.

Almost helplessly, Spike turned to look.

On the screen, Angel’s bulk now covered Lindsey, who was sprawled against the table, his hair all in his eyes, his shoulders straining the fabric of his shirt. Angel looked almost casual, leaning on one elbow on Lindsey’s back. He turned left and asked, “Wes, you want to leave before this next part? It might get a bit messy.”

“No, thank you, I think I’ll stay,” Wes said.

Spike gaped at Wesley, who didn’t not acknowledge him at all, eyes impassive, watching himself watch Angel grope Lindsey in a way that must have hurt. “I think you were just tapping the next best thing.”

Lindsey struggled. For a moment his teeth flashed, brilliant white, gritted under the untidy curtain of hair. “What makes you think…” Lindsey grunted as his face was pushed down with one large hand. “…I’d want to fuck your stinking corpse?”

“Admit it. Say it. All you’ve ever wanted was my dick.”

“You want shame? I ain’t got any.”

“Are you sure? Because this is being taped, Lindsey, and I’m going to call a staff meeting to view it. Everyone will be invited. We’ll even let Eve come enjoy the show.”

“Take your tape and your dirty watcher and jack off together for all I care.”

Angel leaned down until his lips were right next to Lindsey’s ear, but what he said was loud enough for all to hear. “And then I’ll show it to Spike.”

Lindsey froze.

Angel glanced up at the camera with a smirk. “He’ll get to see you plead for mercy while I’m fucking him, hard, over my desk.” He looked back down at Lindsey. “You know, like I get to do all the time now and you never will again?”

Spike jumped up, jerking hard out of Angel’s grip, he turned and stared at his sire with anger and disbelief. Angel sighed and hit pause. “Wes?”

“I’m fine,” Wes said. “Please continue.”

“No, please don’t,” Spike said, sarcastically mimicking Wesley’s calm. “What is this, Angelus? What do you want? To humiliate me?”

Angel sketched the tiniest of shrugs. “I want you to take off your clothes, bend over the desk and watch the tape.”

Spike’s mouth gaped. “Uh… no?”

“Or I will show this tape to the staff at large, Giles, anyone you ever cared about…” Angel let the sentence trail off with another little shrug.

Looking at a point on the floor four feet in front of himself, Spike asked, “What does he say, exactly?”

Spike flinched as Angel reached for his cheek. Angel let his hand drop. “You’ll have to watch to find out.”

“And what about him?” Spike jerked his chin toward Wes. “What’s his deal?”

“I asked Wes here to watch.”

“Why?”

“To remind you both that there’s an audience.” Angel stepped closer to Spike and reached for his cheek again. This time, Spike let him, but he didn’t turn toward him.

“Why?” he repeated.

Angel’s lips brushed Spike’s hairline. “You’ll know, when you’ve seen the whole tape.”

Stiffly, Spike nodded.

Angel stepped back to the desk and unfastened his belt buckle. “Still okay with this, Wes?”

“I’ll let you know when I’m not.”

Spike shrugged out of his coat, not looking at either man. “I don’t now what you’re up to here, Peaches, but I know how you get. So I’ll do this for you, yeah? But after this, it’s over between us.” The leather coat landed on the couch with a sound of finality. “I can’t be with someone who pulls this shit.”

Angel and Wes shared a look. The corner of Wes’ mouth raised a little.

“That’s fine,” Angel said.

Hurt flickered on Spike’s face.

“Are you going to take all night getting undressed?” Angel picked up the remote with a bored air.

Spike pulled his t-shirt over his head. A few hairs loosed from his coiffure to stand in static. He let the shirt drop to the ground. “And send him away.” He pointed at Wes. “I don’t need to perform in front of a watcher.”

“Just get over here.”

Spike was still a moment, locking eyes with Angel. Angel’s expression gave nothing away.

Wesley was mentally taking notes about the dominance game playing out between them. Spike was trying so hard to prove he was an equal, making challenge after challenge, but Angel’s very immobility spoke of the inevitable outcome.

Spike bristled with rage, but he walked, very slowly, to the desk. He didn’t look at Angel, just turned his back on him and let the other vampire push him down and rip his jeans from him.

Angel set the remote against the small of Spike’s back and ran a hand over his flank. Spike shivered. “Get the fuck on with it.”

“Just admiring you, Spike. All naked, laid before me.” Angel pressed his clothed legs against Spike, lifting his knee a little to rub the wool fabric of his trousers against a thigh, just to remind Spike he was naked and two other men were here who were not.

Wesley took off his glasses and wiped them.

The moment of penetration was clear from across the room, the thrust, the reaction of flesh, the grimace. Angel forced his fingers between gel-crusted strands of hair and pulled Spike’s head up to face the screen as he raised the remote and un-paused the action.

“Admit it, Lindsey, and I might go easy on you – or wouldn’t you like that?”

Angel’s fingers twisted, mostly covered by Lindsey’s thick locks, and he forced Lindsey to look up at the camera, his face next to his, maniacal. “Say hi to Spike.”

Spike could see the struggle – painfully one-sided, with Lindsey’s hands chained and trapped in front of him – the elbows straining left and right, every impact just making Angel laugh as he stripped the cowboy and laid him out as he wished.

Against the left wall, the shadow shifted. Spike tried to turn his head to look at Wesley, to glare at him. Hairs tore free and Angel slammed his head into the desk in admonishment.

“That’s it… that’s it, Lindsey. See, I knew you wanted this.”

On the screen, Lindsey’s face streamed with tears, his mouth open. His eyes squeezed shut, tight and wrinkled, and then relaxed, just a little, as Angel moved against him.

“You love it. Admit it. I want to hear you say how much you love this.”

“F-fuck off.”

Angel chuckled. “That’s what I’m doing.”

Spike tried to close his eyes, but somehow, Angel always knew when he did and bashed his head against the desk. He was trying not to cry. Angel was fucking him slowly, with long strokes that pressed hard and firm at the end, pausing at the deepest penetration. He was matching the rhythm he had set with Lindsey, in time with his own recording.

On the screen, Angel said, “It’s okay,” and brushed hair back from Lindsey’s face, almost fondly. Spike saw Lindsey shudder at the unexpected tenderness. “You just want to be important to someone, for however long it lasts. I know you, Lindsey. I’ve known you for decades – your type. And it’s okay. Let it go.”

Lindsey was shuddering in earnest now, face flushed, eyes roaming frantically, as though every innocent stretch of table shamed him, to look at it. “Please, please don’t.”

“Don’t what? Tell the truth?” Angel gathered Lindsey before him in a bear hug and thrust once, hard and tight.

Spike struggled as Angel did the same to him. He felt fangs against his nape, and the voice on the tape became more sibilant, as Angel was wont to do when fangs interrupted his speech.

“You keep asking why I don’t give you a chance, Linds. Why I won’t let you be one of the good guys. It’s because I know you. I know all about you. And admit it; you know too.”

Voice broken, face streaked with tears and snot, Lindsey gasped, “Yes.”

“No, god damnit!” Spike twisted, but of course, he couldn’t argue with a taped interrogation.

Angel’s fangs clamped down, around the top vertebrae of his neck, a bite that always froze him with tingles of ecstatic fear – so easy to be killed from there, or paralyzed. His body thrummed, trapped and taut.

“I know,” Lindsey said, brokenly, “fucking course I know.”

“You’ll always return to the dark, Lindsey. Because you are weak.”

“I am.”

“And you’ve wanted this. You’ve wanted me.”

Angel shook him when he didn’t answer.

“Yes,” Lindsey said, almost inaudible.

“It’s always been about me, only me. Isn’t that right?”

Lindsey tried to shake his head, but then Angel’s fangs where in him.

“Always. Always you, Angel.”

Helplessly, Spike and Lindsey spilled.

***

“You owe me, considerably,” Wesley said. He nodded toward the assembled staff.

Lindsey, released from his cell, slunk by the wall, not looking at anyone, but especially not looking even in the general direction of Spike.

Spike maintained a façade of indifference, but his eyes never strayed to Lindsey’s side of the room, and he moved uncomfortably every time the human so much as breathed loudly.

Angel smiled. There would be no danger of the two falling in together again. And for once, he suspected he could trust Lindsey. He had the morally ambiguous lawyer on a short leash at last, and by extension, Spike. Neither would dare admit it, but they both feared what he’d do to the other if they disappointed him.

Angel put his hand on Wes’ shoulder. “You loved it.”

Wes shrugged. “It was educational,” he said, and slid out from under Angel’s hand.

Angel frowned. Felt like one leash was looser than it had been.

The rest of the meeting, he kept his eyes on Wes.


End file.
